Shortie
by Miggy not Fax
Summary: When Dean Winchester was born several weeks premature, he barely weighed a pound.  But Dean was a fighter and now this story follows the very big problems of a very small boy.  Weechesters.  Slightly AU I guess.
1. Dean's First Day of Kindergarten

**Chapter One**

Dean had always been short. Sam had seen a picture of Dean after he had been born. Veins stood out underneath the translucent, underdeveloped skin and a ventilator was connected to the tube that went down his tiny throat. His frail bones seemed to stick out, like a dying baby bird, or the hopeless runt of a too large litter. An oversized blue cap engulfed his mostly bald head and the not yet colored eyes were scrunched closed. Beneath the picture neat words hard been carefully written._ Dean Winchester, 1-24-79, 1.06 pounds._

Mary and John had been nervous to try and have another baby, the reason they had waited four years before Sam. But Sam was born just past his due date, fat and healthy. The Winchesters had been overjoyed, and hoped that their new baby would grow up and be able to help Dean out with whatever trouble his still tiny size might bring on.

When Sam got older, he did research on the lasting effects of premature birth, and found that his brother was actually quite fortunate to even be alive, even with all the problems he had. Dean was unusually tiny and that coupled with the effects of Ritalin had him barely comparing to the height of his classmates, even the females as they got older.

John Winchester couldn't believe he was sending Dean, the tiny Dean who had barely weighed a pound at birth and was currently the same height as his one year old brother, off to kindergarten. In a case like Dean's, it wouldn't be unusual for him to not only be the same size as Sam, but as mentally competent him, or even less. But Dean had done well over the past year and proved that he could go to kindergarten. John had taken time out of his hunting schedule to speak with Dean's teacher, who agreed to take on the challenge that was John Winchester's oldest son.

Dean was reluctant to leave Sammy, but eager to meet other kids. John had used the excuse of being a hunter to keep Dean away from other kids, he didn't want Dean to know the cruelty that other kids could express. But Dean needed to go to school, so John arranged his hunting schedule so that he would be able to drive Dean to school.

When they got there, John felt his face heat up as several of the other parents stared at his tiny boy. One was bold enough to ask John if he knew that this was an elementary school, not a day care for the mentally challenged. John was so busy trying not to throttle the man, that he almost didn't notice when Dean started speaking.

"Mister," his little voice came. "I was born small, but I'm very lucky. I'm going to have problems all of my life, and I'm going to be small, and it would be real easy for me to just give up and not even try. But I didn't die when I was born. I'm five years old, I have a baby brother, and I'm going to kindergarten, just like any other kid."

John's chest puffed with pride at the maturity his boy had just displayed, and the rude man seemed flabbergasted as Dean went off to play.

"Why are you so little?" a boy asked Dean.

"Why are you so big?" Dean retorted. The boy smiled.

"I like you," he declared. "I'm Carl."

"I'm Dean," the smaller boy introduced himself. "Want to play trains?"

Carl smiled again at his new friend. "Sure!"

Dean's day was going alright until the teacher took declared it to be lunch time and the class lined up. Dean was the caboose so he took his spot at the end of line, but with his tiny legs he was soon lagging behind the other kids as they made their way across the school.

"Hey," one kid, who looked like he had flunked a few times to be in elementary school, said to his friends. "Look at the baby."

"I'm not a baby," Dean mumbled, tiny fingers clenching into a fist.

"Yeah you are," one of the friends declared. "You only come up to my knees."

"I'm not a baby," Dean said again, but this time angrier.

"What are you going to do about? Cry?"

At that moment, Dean would have liked to do that, but he wasn't about to let those kids know it. He realized his class was out of sight and hurried down the hall in the direction he had last seen them going. He let lose a yelp as two hands grabbed him under each arm, and lifted him off the ground.

"Put me down!" he commanded, terrified of this large child who was holding him so far off the ground.

"This kid doesn't weigh nothing," the one who had picked him up said. He let go with one hand, and let the terrified kindergartener dangle by one skinny arm.

"Put me down!" he said, tears running down his cheeks. "You're hurting me! Put me down!"

Finally, Dean had a bit of luck as the principal rounded the corner. "Put that little boy down," he commanded loudly, and the bullies obeyed quickly. Dean sat on the ground, sobbing with pain, but mostly just fear.

The large man gently picked up the freckle faced boy and gestured for the problematic students to follow him. He dropped Dean off in the nurse's office before taking the three older boys too his office. John was called and he nearly exploded once he heard what had happened.

He forced himself to calm down as he made his way out of the hotel room with Sammy on his hip and into the Impala, not wanting to express his rage on the public road. But when he saw the tear stained, sniffling face of his oldest son, the anger returned and he could barely speak as he handed Sammy off to Dean, who had to settle for just hold onto Sam's hand, as he was too small to actually hold him.

"I'm very sorry for what happened here today," the principal apologized. "The students are being expelled; this was their final chance at this school."

"I'm still not sure I want Dean at this school," John stated. "If the teacher pays as much attention to him as she did today, then anything could happen."

The principal nodded understandingly. "My son was born premature as well, and I worried about him all the time. He was picked on for his size, but he made friends who were bigger, and looked out for him. I understand if you want to transfer him to a different school, but I think it would be better for everyone if he stayed here so he won't have to deal with the anxiety of starting a new school twice within a week. If you wish, we could move him to a smaller class so the teacher could pay more attention to him."

John was hesitant to agree, but eventually he did. He took his boys home for the evening and the next day Dean was in a new classroom.


	2. The Boys' First Time Staying with Bobby

**A.N.: This is AU. When Dean gets older he will not be six feet tall. He won't be the shortest person in the history of the world, but he will be small.**

**Chapter Two**

Bobby Singer didn't usually watch hunter's kids, but John was a buddy and his sons were three and seven so he agreed to keep them while John went after a demon. All Bobby new about the boys was that the older one was Dean, and the younger one was Sam. So when the Impala pulled into his salvage yard, and he saw John leading to little boys who were roughly the same height, the blond a little bit taller, towards the house, he was slightly surprised.

"Thanks for taking them," John said as Bobby opened to door for them. Bobby took the duffel bag John had and tossed it into the guest room. John fished around in his left pocket and pulled out an inhaler and a translucent orange bottle of white pills. "There's Dean's… stuff. He takes the Ritalin in the morning around eight and after lunch. His lungs were underdeveloped, so I'd appreciate it if you could keep that with you as a backup. He carries his other."

John left soon, leaving an awkward feeling Bobby with his two little boys. "You kids hungry?" he asked. Dean nodded, and grabbed his brother by the hand.

Bobby put two plates on the table and watched as Dean carefully cut bites of the chicken for his brother before setting into his own food. His short legs swung back and forth beneath is seat as he ate, and once he was finished, he put his fork and plate into the sink and waited on Sammy to finish. Once he had, Dean took Sam's plate for him, and then helped the messy toddler clean up.

"You really look after him, don't you?" Bobby said to the little boy.

"Dad says to look after Sammy," Dean said. "But I would even if he didn't tell me. He's my baby brother, so he needs someone to help him when Dad's not around."

"So if you look after him, who looks after you?" Bobby asked.

"Do you have a TV?" Dean asked, purposefully not answering. Bobby only nodded and lead the boys into his living room.

"Where's your brother?" the hunter asked the toddler sitting on his couch.

"Pwaticin' his shootin'," Sammy replied. "Daddy says dat whenevah he dets duh chance he gotta pwatice."

The little boy's words were enthused by the crack of a gun and Bobby was hustling out of the house. Finally, he found the blond boy with a sawed off shotgun and his pockets sagging slightly with the weight of the ammunition.

"Dean!" Bobby shouted. "What are you doing, you idjit?"

"Shootin'," Dean replied, lifting a tiny hand to point at the shattered glass bottles fifteen yards away. Bobby lost all hope of scolding the boy as an impressed look settled across his face.

"What are you doing that for?" Singer asked.

"Dad says to practice whenever I can, but don't waste ammo if we don't have enough," Dean said. "But there are not too many people around here, there were some bottles in the garbage, and I had the ammo, so I came out here too shoot."

"You… you don't need to do that, boy," Bobby said weakly, recognizing the phrase "Daddy says". "Just come on inside and watch some TV with Sammy."

Dean nodded and followed the man back to the house and inside.


End file.
